“…with my dad as a player coach. We all work together for the survival of our team, and we all contribute. Each one of us has strengths and weaknesses, yet there is always that force driving us to achieve more together. As the player-coach, my dad as the responsibility of overseeing our performances.”
“ Dad is the super-size bandaid – strong & powerful - but not always effective in a crisis. Mom is the middle-size tweezer, which picks and pokes and pinches. David is the single small aspirin on the third shelf, sometimes ignored. Muffin , the sheep dog, is a round cotton ball, stained and dirty, that pops off the shelf and bounces in my way as I open the door. And I am the wood and glue which hold us all together with my love.”
My family is an expired firecracker set off by the blowtorch of divorce. We lay scattered in many directions. My father is the wick, badly burnt but still glowing softly. My mother is the blackened paper fluttering down, blowing this way and that, unsure where to land. My sister is the fallen, colorful parachute, lying in a tangled knot, unable to see the beauty she holds. My brother is the fresh, untouched powder that was protected from the flame.
And I , I am the singed, outside papers, curled away from everything, silently cursing the blowtorch.
“When you think about it, family life is extremely complex and most of us just go through the motions everyday without any reflection. I usually take for granted that most families are similar to mine. However, the more I look carefully at other family systems, the more aware I am of the differences. Perhaps families are like snowflakes, no two are ever exactly alike.”